Kill Me, Love Me
by Prosper-the-XVIII
Summary: FishlegsxOC one-shot. Fishlegs falls head-over-heels in love with a girl that his dragon very nearly kills.


Fishlegs couldn't help staring at the girl he had almost killed. There was no doubt about it. She was gorgeous. After he had convinced his dragon, Meatlug, that she _wasn't _dead, so trying to eat her was utterly pointless, he hadn't taken his eyes off of her. She wasn't a Hooligan, that was for sure; he could place a name to every face on Berk. Except this one. He had never seen anyone like her. Her skin, hair and probably her eyes, for she was knocked out, and had her eyes shut, so Fishlegs could only make the assumption, were dark brown. He had never seen anyone with that skin tone before. She had a pretty nice figure as well; going in and out in all the right places. She was scarcely wearing anything, just a short top that looked a little like Astrid's, a skirt so short it could probably qualify as a belt and black gladiator sandals that laced up her legs. There was a helmet lying beside her. He wanted to get to know her, touch her, for Thor's sake, he would be satisfied by just knowing her name.

All that would've been a bit easier to accomplish if he hadn't just unintentionally dropped her ten feet from a dragon.

It wasn't his fault; she had been asleep on the beach or something, Meatlug had mistaken her for carrion and picked her up. Now it occurred to him that maybe it was his fault. He had told the dragon to put her down, and she'd just dropped the girl there and then.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Before he had any idea what he was doing, he was stroking her hair.

The girl's eyes snapped open. "Em, hi..." She said somewhat uneasily. She then noticed the lock of her mahogany-coloured hair wrapped round Fishlegs's wrist. "What...are you doing?"

Fishlegs put his hand behind his back after untangling himself from her hair. "Em...nothing..."

She stood up and stormed off, muttering; "Pervo.." under her breath. Her hand shot up to her head, and Fishlegs pulled something out from behind his back. "Looking for something? I got your helmet!" She walked towards him, snatched her helmet off of him, but then playfully grabbed his nose with her thumb and finger, and said; "Well, I got your face!"

Fishlegs hooked his foot round her ankle. "I got your leg!"

She yanked Fishlegs's overgrown fringe. "I got your hair!"

Fishlegs took hold of the front of her shirt and, before pulling her into a kiss, he said; "I got your lips!"

She looked shocked at first, but then untensed and closed her eyes, seemingly enjoying it.

After they were finished, she said gently; "So, what's your name?"

After a stammered, and incredibly failed attempt at acting suave, he gave in and said lamely; "I'm Fishlegs Ingerman."

The girl smiled. "Sigrid." Fishlegs's face melted. Sigrid. A beautiful name to match a beautiful girl. He had no idea why you weren't supposed to pronounce the 'D' on the end, so it just sounded like Sigree, but he had always liked the name. It had been what his mum was called before she was killed in a raid when he was four. Sigrid wasn't finished. "Sigrid Termagant Iona Dragonheart Edmundson the Second. It's kind of a stupid name, but I think it kind of suits me." Sigrid slipped her arm into Fishlegs's and smiled. Gods, she had a cute smile. Like, kind of squint and a picky person would say it had too many teeth in it, but it was INSANELY hot. "So, wanna walk me home?"

"Where do you live? I've not seen you around."

Her big eyes clouded with sadness. "I'm originally a Berserk. Most of the people I know were killed in this massive fire a couple days ago. I have family in this tribe, I wound up here and they took me in. Do you know Snotlout Jorgenson?"

Fishlegs nodded. Snotlout was fitter and somewhat better looking than him. It was obvious that Sigrid was going to ask him to fix her up with him. What she actually said was a total surprise.

"He's such a moron, isn't he? He's my fourth cousin seven times removed or something really obscure like that. I've been crashing with him, and he's just been hitting on me the whole time."

"Yeah, he gets like that with anything in a skirt when he's not in a relationship."

Sigrid laughed, then grimaced as she put her hand to the back of her head. "What happened, anyway? I've got a killer headache and I was passed out on the beach, but I don't recall having anything to drink. I'm no lightweight, either. If I've been on the booze, everyone knows about it." She sniffed the ends of her hair, and then held it out to Fishlegs. "Does this smell of alcohol to you?"

"Yeah, about that. You must've fallen asleep on the beach or something. My dragon thought you were dead, and picked you up."

"I can work out what happened from there. Your dragon's a Gronckle, isn't it?" Fishlegs nodded.

"What's his name?"

"Her," Fishlegs corrected. "She's called Meatlug."

"Awesome! You wanna see mine?"

"Hell yeah!"

Sigrid stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. A big white _something _came loping out of a bush, like an overgrown dog with wings and a lot of scales. It jumped up on Fishlegs, and started licking his face. Fishlegs was hardly compact, but funnily enough, most of it was muscle, but it still took most of his strength to repel the dragon. Sigrid laughed. "Yeah, this is Tyr."

Fishlegs stared at the dragon. "Is that a...Night Fury."

"I really don't know. I think he might be, but if he is, he's got some weird genetic quirk that makes him white or something."

"Cool. So, like, erm..." Fishlegs gave an awkward smile/grimace and placed a nervous hand to the back of his neck. Sigrid laughed.

"Okay, to save you the trouble of asking anything that is going to increase the awkward...ness of this situation, I'll just give you the full profile. I am sixteen years old, I ride a White Fury named Tyr, my birthday is the twenty-ninth of May, and I dislike Snotlout, that annoying blonde chick with the attitude problem-"

"Astrid?" Fishlegs put in helpfully. He was a little shocked at Sigrid's choice of words, however accurate. Sigrid seeemed like a bit of a bad girl, but at the same time, a less-psychopathic version opf his ex-girlfriend, Ruffnut. Still, at least she and her new-found guy, Thuggory, were happy...

"Oh, so that's what that daughter of a bitch is called. Seriously, I tried to have a conversation with her boyfriend, and she just about broke my arm. Anyway, my _likes _are mead, axes, dragons and cute blonde guys whose dragons try to kill me." Fishlegs smiled as Sigrid flashed him her ultra-cute smile and snapped him out of his daydream/daymare/flashback.

"Well, _my _likes are reading and hot sixteen-year-olds whose names begin with 'S'."

Sigrid gently slipped her arm through Fishlegs'. "Wanna go out on the dragons for a bit? I'm sure we have time. Plus, any excuse to get away from Snotface." Gods, this girl could read him like a BOOK! "Hel yeah!" Fishlegs said, with none of his usual hesitation.

Three hours later, Fishlegs walked back to the village, happy, exhilarated and flushed, with his brand-new girlfriend hanging off his arm...


End file.
